Never Surrender
by volvagia09
Summary: It was a life without value, a life not even worth the dirt under your feet, but when you have something to fight for this life is more than enough to keep going. And Fili was determined to go on, because he had something worth living for. hurt!Fili
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello there! I actually didn't want to post a new story before my others are finished, but The Hobbit was on my mind for far too long already to just ignore the many plot bunnies that are jumping around in my head. Furthermore I wanted to see more Fili centered fics on this side because he doesn't get enough love from everyone. It's always Kili who gets the attention, and although I admit that I was rather captivated by Kili for a certain amount of time I still like Fili a lot more, so, yeah, that's actually it. No on with the story :)**

**Oh, another thing: English is not my first language, so please be gentle with me when I make grammatical or linguistic mistake /:P When some word don't fit blame the dictionary**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit and I'm not making any profit with this story**

The sun shone through the luscious green tent of leaves, drawing small patters on the earth underneath. The chirping of birds mixed with his sight chuckling while he ran through the thick Underwood, trying to find a good place to hide. He was always the best in finding good hiding spots, so his elation was lawful while he imagined the faces of his friends when he was winning once again.

Spotting a small grove of thorn bushes Fili hurried into them, careful to not tear his clothes or scratch hid face, otherwise his mother would have his head. After he found a spot where no dwarven child was able to spot him and that was halfway comfortable he went quiet and waited. This was the part he hated the most: waiting until someone was clever enough to find him. Hating to wait and being the best in Hide and Seek didn't match together that well he began to notice.

He sighed and began to look at his surrounding, which wasn't exactly the most appealing one, consisting mostly of thorns and twigs. Just when he began to write the letters he had recently learned into the ground with a branch he felt a large hand cover his mouth, another one grabbed him around his waist and pulled at him. In his shock Fili let go of the branch and tried to tear the hands off him, but his assailant was far too strong for him to break free of the grip. He tossed and kicked, but it didn't help anything while he was dragged out of the bushes, the thorns leaving bloody gashes on his face and where ever they tore his clothes apart.

After mere seconds he was out in the open again and tried to break free more desperately now that he had more room to move. Fili heard a grunt from behind him while he wiggled in his captors arms when he carried him away through the brushwood, farther away from the settlement. "Cut it!" he heard a deep voice snap behind him, but he didn't even thought about stopping his attempts and just tried even harder to break free. His assailant let out another few grunts before he pulled his hands back, straightening his grip and pulling Fili's head further back.

He feel his captors breath at the base of his neck, and the smell of alcohol nearly made him gag. "If ya don' stop right now I break ya neck," the man said and emphasized his threat by pulling Fili's head further back. He let out a small whimper but stopped wiggling. Apparently satisfied the man continued his walk and they soon reached a path that went through the forest. A wooden cart stood right in the middle of it while three human men leaned against it and stomped their feet impatiently.

When they noticed them their eyes darkened while one of them took a step forward. "Where have you been?" he asked angrily. "We've been waiting for you forever! We have to go before someone finds us!"

"Yeah yeah," his captor shrugged it off and went to the back of the cart. He let go of Fili's mouth, but before he could utter a single word he was tossed through the freshly opened door of the cargo area. He let out a small yelp and turned his head towards the still open doors only to see the foul grin of his captor before he shut them and left him in darkness.

* * *

Fili awoke with a startle. He inspected his surrounding while he tried to get his breathing under control again. He wasn't in a forest and he wasn't anywhere near the sun either.

He let out a sigh when he observed the many bodies that lay on the ground close-packed, the only thing covering them the dirty rags they wore. They didn't need blankets so far underground, not that they would have get any anyways. The lamps that hung from the ceiling emitted a gloomy light that was barely enough to distinguish the silhouettes of the dozens of people in the room. It was a sight Fili got used to over the years, but it still didn't stop him from hoping that, some when, he would be able to wake up to an other sight.

He rubbed his eyes while he moved himself into a more comfortable sitting position, his elbows resting on his knees. It had been a while since he dreamed of the day of his capture, a long time that he dreamed at all actually, or at least could remember it after he woke up. He had nearly forgotten how he got into the situation he was in now. Well, it wasn't exactly a situation he was in, more like his _life, _if you could even call it that way.

Over fifty years have passed since that day, and it scared him a little how much he adapted to this 'situation'. He hadn't been the only one caught that day in the woods, nor was he the last one those bastards had lain hands on.

_There had been various other dwarfs in that cart, male and female, young and old, all of them different and no one of them knew what was going on. They found out at when night fell over them and the rattling of the cart had stopped. One after the other they were pulled out of it and thrown in again shortly after. Fili has been able to distinguish the screams of the others, dulled through the wood of the carriage, as well as the painful whimpers of the ones already back in the wagon._

_When it has been his turn he had shaken in fright, but he refused to cry. All of his bravery though went downhill when he was pulled out and thrown in front of the fire-place. One of the men turned him around, so that he lay on his back, and held his body down. At first he was too terrified to even make a sound, but when he saw the branding iron being pulled out of the fire he couldn't suppress a whimper. He struggled against the grip, but just like before it was no use. Another man pulled the collar of his shirt down while the one with the iron came closer, a cold and unyielding glint in his eyes._

Again Fili sighed while he remembered the moment and his right hand unconsciously went up to rub the scar that lingered on the left side of his chest through the thin fabric of his torn shirt. With his fingers he followed the bread that formed the mark that defined his life since that moment on. With bitterness he traced the encircled 'S' that had been burned into his flesh that night. Until then it had been the worst pain he ever thought possible. He hadn't known how wrong he was.

_After they have been marked as slaves and a few hours rest they went on with their ride for at least two days, but Fili wasn't sure because of the lack of light in the carriage. They have been supplied with a bit of water but no food when they set off, but other wise the doors hadn't been opened. After an undefined amount of time in that cart with barely enough water and no food at all they eventually reached a city or a village. _

_Fili had been able to hear the murmur of people through the walls of the wagon, and after a while they had stopped. Not long after that the doors opened once again, and again the inhabitants were led out, though no one of them returned afterwards. When it had been again Fili's turn he bit his bottom lip to not cry again. The burn mark on his left chest still pained him greatly, and the hunger and fear he felt since nearly three days didn't help either. _

_Eventually he was dragged outside after his hands were tied together with a rope. Many people - mainly male - gathered in a crowd in front of a pedestal on which one of his captors pulled him on. While he stood there he was barely able to look over the crowd. All of them were humans and although he was standing on a podium Fili was still a small dwarf. One of the men who kidnapped him had said something about a 'healthy dwarven child' and about him 'perfectly fitting into small spaces', but Fili didn't listen. He was far more busy scanning the crowd for anyone who could help him. He had looked at everyone in front of him, but the only thing he saw was indifference, aversion or disinterest. _

_A loud hammer had him startled, and before he understood what was happening to him he was dragged to the end of the pedestal and pushed into the arms of a tall and gruff looking man. He put him down roughly and shoved him away in front of him while they walked to another carriage at the end of the market the pedestal was located on. Again Fili was tossed inside, though this time not only dwarfs but humans as well kept him company._

The ride was long and they have had little water and even less to eat on the way to where ever they were traveling. Even now Fili had no idea where he actually was except that they had to be in some kind of mine in a group of mountains west of the Misty Mountains. His work had consisted of mining, working in the smelting furnace or in the forge, but when he was younger he had been small enough to creep into tight gashes in the stone where nobody else was able to fit in. Sometimes he had to spend hours trapped between the stone, searching for new ore veins to work on.

The work got harder the older he got. At one point he hadn't been able to fit into the crevice anymore, so he had to swing the pickaxe and the hammer. The food was still scarce, but surprisingly he was able to build up a good amount of muscles over the years due to the hard labor. If he had been a normal dwarf somewhere in the Blue Mountains he might have been proud of his strength and body, but here it only meant that you were healthy and strong so you could work even longer hours without a break.

Of course he hadn't been always like that. At the beginning of this new life he has been exhausted very early and thus had to be punished several times. The overseer's favorite tool had been the whip and Fili could always feel the stirring of the scars on his skin whenever he turned his upper body. Sometimes the overseer were just bored or you did or said something that made them angry to which they responded with punishment again, though beside the whip they also liked to beat the slaves until they were barely able to move, let alone work. Not few died in front of Fili's eyes.

Especially the beginning was pure torture to his young mind. He had grown up with a family that had loved him and who he loved in return. There had been his beautiful and warmhearted mother, Dis, who used to tuck him into bed every night and told him a story. Then there was his baby brother Kili with his infectious smile and shaggy dark hair. He was nothing more than a toddler when Fili got captured, not even able to talk. And there was his uncle, Thorin, with his stern but gentle gaze and his stories of a long-lost kingdom. It was a pity that he could barely remember their faces anymore.

Sometimes when the overseers let their frustration out on him he had imagined that his uncle would dash in, defeat the man who hurt him and would rescue him from this terrible place. Sometimes when he had trouble sleeping he imagined that everything was just a terrible nightmare and that, when he woke up, would be back in his bed at home in the Blue Mountains, smelling the delicious aroma of bacon and eggs his mother prepared for breakfast. Sometimes he imagined himself and his little brother in front of the fire-place where he would teach him how to speak or where they would play all kinds of games together, just like brothers usually did.

But all of this was just wishful thinking. When he was beaten there was nobody who interrupted or helped him. When he woke up he only had water and a bowl of a slimy substance that tasted of nothing awaiting him twice a day. And it would be a great surprise when Kili even remembered his face, not to mention that he would never hear his baby brother speaking a single word.

All of the hopes of getting out of this hellish place he had when he was still a child became less and less the more time passed and the more he got used to this life. The hope eventually changed placed with frustration, anger and sorrow, piling up inside him over many years. One day he had witnessed a slave being beaten up once again, and on any normal day he would have mind his own business, but then the slave let out a desperate "Help!". In that moment something had snapped inside Fili.

He had stepped in front of the overseer and stopped his next punch. The man had looked at him dumfounded, not used to resistance of any kind, especially not from a slave. After he gathered his bearing again there was hell to pay for Fili. At first he had been beaten, too, and afterwards he had been whipped in front of every slave of the mines as a warning. It had been the worst pain he had ever experienced in his life until then, but deep inside he felt a deep satisfaction, a feeling he hadn't felt since over a decade.

After that he had stepped up on the overseers whenever he had the chance, and little by little he felt as if he could hold his head up a little higher with the little bit of pride he was able to store away inside him and that he pulled out on those occasions. Time after time he felt more and more defiant of his 'destiny' as a slave and this was his own way to go on against it. He was of the line of Durin, an old and noble line of dwarfs, that much he was able to remember of the things he was thought in the Blue Mountains, and as such he had the right to choose his destiny himself.

Soon he became something similar to a role model for the other slaves. More and more often they stood up against the overseers. But Fili must have anticipated that this couldn't have a good ending. One day one of the slaves went too far in their attempt of defiance and killed one of the overlookers by breaking his skull with a stone. The other supervisors were quick to react and killed nearly three dozens of slaves that day for revenge. After that Fili doubted that his way of resistance was the right thing to do. What was pride good for when you didn't have a life?

Again a lot of time passed since then and again frustration and hopelessness swelled inside him. After a while the others stopped looking up to him, hoping that he again would do something that resembled resistance. He had to bear their disappointed looks for a long time. One day he witnessed how one of the children was whipped for crying and hate and anger began to surface once again, but not only for the overlooker but for himself as well. How could he be so gutless as to let something as awful as this happen? How could he get used to such horrendous things and let them happen without doing something against it? Who needed a life when this life was empty?

There hadn't been a day afterwards where Fili didn't swear to himself that he would do everything he could to stop things like that from happening. He would take the blame and with that the punishment when someone made a mistake. When someone had to stay the day without food he would at least part his ration with them. When someone was beaten up he would let his bucket fall down on purpose so the supervisor focused on him instead. It was hard, and on some days he doubted that it was worth the pain and effort, but then he imagined that this person starving in front of him or being whipped could be his brother, his mother or even uncle, and his determination only grew. This purpose was everything he had left.

Since over fifty years he now worked in this hell hole of a mine. It had been over fifty years since he saw the sun and over fifty years since he tasted something else than bread, dirt and blood. The thought alone made him frustrated and angry. Fili sighed again, knowing that his head was far too packed with thought to fall back asleep, and went a hand through his long, unkempt and dirty blonde hair. He tried to keep it as short as possible with a sharp stone he kept near his sleeping place, but his dwarven-pride was obviously shining through, for he kept it a little longer than shoulder length, binding it together with a piece of fabric he ripped off of his already torn shirt whenever he worked. His beard was practically the same. Although he would be able to shave himself with the stone there was just too much dwraven-pride left inside him to do more than cropping it.

At the moment he was the only dwarf in this place, and maybe that was the reason why he was still alive. Dwarfs were a tough folk and not easy to break down, so they were able to work harder and longer than humans, not to forget their strength, their susceptibility towards ores and precious stones and their skills in forming metal. He always knew if an ore was worth winning, knew if a jewel was precious or just trash and he could make a fine weapon or gear out of everything. Maybe that was also the reason why he wasn't killed back then together with the other three dozen slaves. He was too useful to lose.

A sudden sound startled Fili out of his thoughts. His head shot up and went into the direction of the noise. The large iron door that locked the slaves in one of the many underground caves in the mine was got unlocked, a sure sign that it was time for another day of hard labor and pain. When the solid door swung open he could see one of the supervisors standing in the door, three others behind him. As usual their bodies were covered in armor Fili made himself, and it disgusted him that those bastard were wearing them while to protect themselves. The man at the front walked into the cave before he began to wake the slaves lying on the floor by kicking them. "Wake up you lazy bunch of half-wits! We don't have all day!" he shouted while he walked through the crowd.

Fili scowled at him when he kicked an old man back on his rear when he didn't sand up fast enough, but when the overseer passed him he hid his expression under meekness and fear while he hurried to stand up as well. The overlooker just snarled at him with a look of disgust and walked on. When he turned his back on Fili though he scowled again and stuck his tongue out at him. A few children nearby chuckled lightly, hiding their mirth behind their hands to not draw attention. Fili gave them a n amused smile before he hushed them towards the entrance.

When their were quick the slimy muck might still be warm.

**A/N: How did you like it? I know that some of it is not realistic, like the part where he builds up muscles although he has barely enough to eat and so on, but HEY! I write fanfiction and not a schoolbook. Please tell me what you think ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I wanted to thank my two reviewers wardog85 and AutumnSapphire9 for the feedback. This story isn't as popular as I hoped but that doesn't matter to me. I had to get this out of my head, and I'm happy even when just a few people like it.**

**Disclaimer: Lets see... Nope, still don't own anything but the mistakes**

It had been a while since Dwalin was able to get out of the Blue Mountains. Not that he was lazy, or that he didn't like the mountains, it was just not his home, and whenever he was there he could feel in his bones that he had to go away from this place, back to the place where he belonged, back to Erebor, because the Blue Mountains were not home. Well, Erebor was lost and there wasn't any particular hope that they would be able to get it back in the near future, so the only thing he was able to do was going out onto the streets to get rid of this feeling of not belonging. He would never understand the way his brother could feel so at ease in the Blue Mountains. Maybe it was his age.

But opposite to his older brother Dwalin was not so content with his life. No, he needed to move, otherwise he would go crazy. Nonetheless he had spent a rather long amount of time at his brothers home. It had been months since he was last walking outside of Thorin's Halls, and he knew he grew restless, and he knew that Balin knew, therefore he wasn't surprised when Balin had just smiled when he told him he was going to work for the leader of a caravan as a guard. Wielding his axes was the only work he was suited for, everyone knew that, but in the Blue Mountains this profession hardly came to use.

When he told Thorin that he would be away for a few months he had merely nodded in his usual stern demeanor and bid him farewell. Dwalin hadn't expected tears or worry from his friend, but he had hoped to get something more than the stern bitterness Thorin was displayed. But this was everything anyone received from the King in exile since decades. And Dwalin knew the reason.

Before Fili was born the roaming folk of Durin had little hope for a better life. Even after they had settled in the Ered Luin the overall mood was depressing, sad and hopeless. They had just lost too much and lost too many of their kind. But when Dis, Thorin's little sister, declared that she was with child new hope had flared. Hope that their kin would survived, that the royal family from the Line of Durin would gain strength once more, and that they would eventually be led into a bright future, a future back in Erebor. When Fili was born it was a joyful day for Durin's Folk, and the boy's golden hair was interpreted to be a symbol of wealth and prosperity. The young prince probably had been the single most loved dwarfling of their people.

The lad had been a bundle of energy, mirth and witt. Even at a young age he had been incredibly cunning and has been fast on the uptake, although this intellect had mostly been put into shenanigans and mischief he caused, even at a very young age. But no dwarf has been able to be mad at him for a long time, too great had been the joy of his birth and the hope he brought. Not to forget that his very presence made the life in the Ered Luin a little brighter.

The news of another prince arriving soon brought even more euphoria than the first time. It had been a sign that things were getting even better for them, and that gave them even more strength to hold on to before they were able to reclaim their real home. Dwalin could still vividly remember how Fili adored his little brother after he had been born. Rumors even spread that Dwalin had _cried _from happiness when he saw those two together, but he denied it every time someone mentioned it. He had a reputation to keep up. But it was true that he held a deep affection for those lads. Similar to Thorin's, but not as strong as his.

Against common belief Dwalin _did_ has feelings, he just showed them differently. Instead of hugging a crying child and saying that everything would be all right he would give it a good pad on the back and told him to stop whining and be strong. To most it would look rude, but he just didn't want the lad or lass to cry again. Dis' lads understood him, although Kili had been a little too young to do more than just look at him with teary eyes, but Fili always stopped crying when Dwalin told him to without starting again. He wasn't closely related to the royal family, but related no less and Fili's disappearance hit him harder than he let anyone see. Except Balin maybe, but his older brother always knew when something was wrong, as if he could read his mind. It was creepy sometimes.

When Fili was born Thorin had been delighted by it. Finally his people had new reason to hope, and he himself got an heir, someone who could follow after him when he died and perhaps sit on the throne of Erebor one day. It was pride that shone in the king's eyes, but this pride soon had changed into something different. Of course he had loved his nephew from the moment he was born, but after a while Fili wasn't only his heir, but his first sister-son, and after Fili's and Kili's father died, both of them became the closest he had to sons. He may not have fathered a child, but Thorin was a father no less. Dwalin noticed that, whenever the stern king was with his kin he was emitting an aura of satisfaction, and the depressing weight of losing his home, his crown and the most part of his family seemed to vanish.

At least until Fili disappeared.

It had been a summer day in the Blue Mountain, just over a year after Kili had been born, and the dwarven children had been playing outside in the sun. Fili had been gone out with his friends, but the problem was that he never came back. After a few hours the other children came back into the mountain with unusual worried expressions. They had told their parents that they couldn't find Fili out in the forest, and as soon as Thorin got hold of this information he gathered a scouting party and set out to find his nephew. Dwalin had been part of this party, but at the end of the day they had to return empty-handed.

If Thorin had has his way they would have searched the whole night, but eventually he had to see reason that they wouldn't be able to find him in the dark, so they had to return back, only to go out again the next day at sunrise. But just like the previous day they hadn't been able to find Fili. Slowly but surely Dwalin had felt the dread that had risen inside him by the news that Fili was missing grow larger and larger until his heart had felt so heavy that he felt like drowning. He didn't want to imagine Thorin's heartache.

Thorin had been obsessed with finding his nephew after their fruitless search. He had packed a bag with supplies and headed out into the forest to find whatever trace he could find of his sister-son. Some dwarfs had followed his example like Dwalin himself, Balin, Gloin and his brother Oin as well as a dozen others who wanted to find their small prince.

But it had been in vain.

They had stayed two weeks in the wilderness in two groups, searching for anything that resembles traces of a six years old dwarfling, but they had to declare defeat in the end. At first Thorin didn't want to go back to the settlement, but when their supplies were growing thin he had to come back with the others, although they nearly had to drag him. To say that the mood was downcast was an underestimation. Dwalin had been there when Thorin told his sister that he didn't find her eldest son. He could still hear her heart wrenching cries and sobs.

After that Thorin did another journey into the forest, although he must have known that there was little to no hope finding Fili alive, if he found him at all. This time he went alone, and he was not seen in another two weeks. When he returned empty-handed again Dwalin could barely recognize him anymore. The happiness when he looked at his kin, his nephews, was gone. It had been replaced with pain, guilt and sorrow. After that Thorin became hard and unyielding, filled with bitterness, towards himself or the world in general Dwalin didn't know, but he knew that something had broken inside his friend. After the loss of his grandfather, his father and his brother he now also lost his young nephew, barely old enough to learn his letters. But the thing that hurt them the most was the uncertainty. They neither found Fili alive, nor his body, and the question what happened to the boy was nearly as unbearable as the sole fact that he was missing at all.

Since then the atmosphere in the Blue Mountains was oppressive. Gone was the happy chatter of the men while they were drinking ale after a hard day of work. Gone was the chattering of the women on the market while they were buying ingredients for their meals. At least for a while. After a few weeks most things went back to normal for the dwarf of the Ered Luin. But not for the Line of Durin.

While Dis was still grieving the loss of her son Thorin became hard and somewhat determined to keep his remaining nephew away from any kind of danger. Sometimes Dwalin wasn't sure if his friend wasn't carrying it to excess when he didn't want Kili to go out of the settlement inside the mountain without at least one guard with him when he was already twenty, but whenever Dwalin expressed his thoughts he would only get an angry look from his king that clearly said that it wasn't his decision to make, so eventually Dwalin kept quiet.

But he could clearly see the way this constant pampering annoyed Kili the older he got. No one ever spoke of Fili, knowing that the memory was too painful for everyone, so the lad never knew why everyone was so watchful over him. It didn't happen rarely that he sneaked out of his room to get a little time for himself, away from his overprotective family, and have a little fun, and not few times Dwalin helped him by his escapes, thinking that a little excursion was just what the lad needed. A few times Thorin found out about it, and after the first bone crushing hug he gave the young dwarf a fierce tongue-lashing about his safety every time. The times were few where Kili didn't shout back at his uncle, but at the end he would always do as he said and never go out alone again, at least for a little while.

Dwalin could understand Dis' and Thorin's protectiveness over the boy, but that didn't stop him from thinking that it was exaggerated. Above all it was killing Kili's natural mischievous and happy streaks away little by little. He wasn't able to get out of the house without someone with him. As a child he was forbidden to play with others kids outside the mountain. There had been barely any moment in his life were someone wasn't watching his every steps.

Seeing his friend and family so broken and malfunctioning always send a small stab of pain through Dwalin's heart whenever he saw them. Dis looked as if she was happy, but sometimes he and others dwarfs noticed her absent and sad look in her eyes, and everyone knew that she was thinking of her firstborn. Thorin turned cold and bitter, barely able to show real happiness anymore since his oldest nephew and heir, the Durin's new hope, disappeared after so many of his kin already went to the halls of Mahal. And although Kili couldn't remember his older brother he had to suffer the consequences from his absence.

The Durin's were broken and scarred, more than ever, and Dwalin knew that the only one able to fix them, the only one who was able to keep them together, was Fili.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey there and hello to a new chapter :) I was pleasantly surprised that so many people started to read this fic after the second chapter was posted, and for that I'm very grateful. I want to thank everyone who reviewed: AutumnSapphire9, Kootenay, wardog85, Elenhin, LilaPanthera, Kili's girl forever, GregsMadHatter, Shanynde, rodeocat and Gratia Astra. Thank you so much for your feedback :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit, nor will ever own it, so I can forget making any money with it *sob***

Sweat was running into his eyes and down his bare neck and back, but Fili leaned a long time ago how to ignore such physical inconveniences. Working at the forge was never easy, but for him it had a soothing effect. Not only could he let out his pent-up frustration while smashing his hammer down on the metal, no, working with it gave him a little comfort. It gave him the feeling of that at least one thing in the world was working just like it was supposed to be. A dwarf forging metal.

He raised his piece of work up into the red light of the fires and assessed it with a careful eye. After he was positive that he did a good job he dipped it into a barrel of dirty water next to him and threw it into the box where he put the parts he already finished. Without further ado he grabbed the next chunk of metal and put it into the fire of the forge before he pulled out the other one he put inside a short while before. It was glowing red with heat when Fili rested it on his anvil, and bright sparks flew in the air when he hit it with his hammer over and over again.

Blow after blow his hammer dashed down, every hit making a sound that was ringing in Fili's ears like music, until the metal cooled down too much to be formed any further. He went back to the fire and exchanged his material with the chunk of raw metal he put in before and repeated the procedure. In a steady rhythm he swung his arm, his body remembering the movement from decades of use. No hit was amiss while his other coworkers faded out of his focus.

A loud scream ripped him out of his own little bubble. The world came back into focus while he looked around, searching for the source of the scream while his mind already told him that one of the slaves was punished again. His gaze wandered to his right where the others were quick to scurry away from their unfortunate companion, afraid to get themselves involved and punished as well.

A middle-aged woman was lying on the ground, curled together in a fetus position to protect her body from a s many blows as possible while one of the supervisors was smacking his whip against her body, a furious expression plastered on his face. Fili recognized the woman. She was new, not even a week has passed since they brought her to this hell hole, and one of the few who didn't only think of herself. But that would pass. Some when she would grow as numb to the suffering of others as the rest. Fili saw it often enough.

"You worthless bitch!" the overseer snarled while striked out with his foot and kicked her in the guts. "You're a total waste of money!" Again he kicked her before he raised his whip once again.

Fili gritted his teeth in suppressed anger and he tightened his grip on his hammer until his knuckles turned white. Waste of money? This disgusting spawn of an orc and a mountain troll was a waste of _air_!

Just as the supervisor wanted to hit the woman again his head whipped around when he heard the loud clunk of metal hitting the floor. His angrily narrowed eyes scanned the crowd that has gathered around him until he the source of the noise. In front of Fili lay some of his tools while he was supporting himself on a the table they had lain on as if he just tripped. He put on a surprised and expression while he looked own on the tools before he met the eyes of the overseer. His eyes widened in played fear when he tried to make himself smaller than he already was.

With a furious snarl the overseer walked towards the dwarf, and although Fili saw his attack coming at him he stood still and just stared at him in 'horror'. The man lashed out with his fist and smashed it into Fili's face who promptly fell to the floor. He felt a bit dizzy from the impact, but before he could gather his wits again he felt the supervisor's foot slamming into his stomach. He curled himself together like the woman before to protect most parts of his body while the man was kicking at him over and over again.

"Do you even know how expensive this tools are?!" he yelled before he raised his whip and let it slash down on Fili's body. He let out a pained scream every time the whiplash ripped open his skin and cut into his flesh. He felt the blood oozing out of his wounds while he lay on the floor, the supervisor standing over him trying to catch his breath.

Fili heard an angry snarl before he heard someone step to the fire behind him. He pulled his arms off his face and tried to stand up, but when he put his arms on the ground to support himself he saw a glimmer of red enter his field of vision. Before he could react the overseer has pressed the white glowing chunk of metal onto Fili's right upper arm.

He screamed and lost the strength in his arms when it was pushed further and further into his flesh. With a click of his tongue the supervisor pulled back and threw the piece of metal back into the flames. "Let this be a lesson to you!" he snarled before he turned back to the crowd that has gathered. "What?! Don't you have work to do?!" he shouted at them. Everyone hurried to get away while the overseer chased after some of them to kick them when they weren't fast enough.

Panting Fili lay on the floor while he tried to stand up. He had to suppress another scream when he put weight on his injured arm. He nearly buckled over again, but he pulled himself together, knowing that, when he didn't go to work fast enough, he would get an even worse beating. He swayed a little when he was on his feet again, trying to gain his balance back.

His whole arm felt as if it was on fire. Every other injuries were pale beside it, but he grit his teeth together and walked towards the his smith's hearth after he collected his tools off the floor, and pulled out the chunk of metal he put in before the whole ruckus stared, the very piece that burned itself into his flesh. He grabbed his hammer, but before he continued his work he cast a glance towards the place the woman was beaten earlier.

She was gone. Without another word she had hurried back to her own task. With a sigh Fili raised his hammer and smashed it down on his anvil, ignoring the pain that seemed to race through his whole body whenever he lifted his arm and set all of his nerves on fire.

He never wanted thanks, and he never got it. And with that he smashed his hammer down once again.

* * *

"This is the most boring caravan I've ever been with," Dwalin muttered while he rode on his pony beside said caravan. It has been two weeks since he left the Blue Mountains and joined the trades as a guard, and in this two weeks nothing happened. Sure, he got to get to know a few new interesting guys from out of Ered Luin who were not dwarfs, like the fellow with the facial scar who knew the dirtiest jokes in all of middle earth, Johren, or the strange archer who had the weird habit of not blinking at all when he talked to someone. He had an equally weird name, but Dwalin didn't bothered to remember it for he was never to speak to that guy. He crept the hell out of him.

"And there I thought you liked me," he heard a voice from beside him. Dwalin turned his head around and saw Johren ride up next to him on his horse with an expression of mock hurt on his face.

Dwalin snorted at him. "You know how I meant it," he grumbled.

Johren sighed and nodded his head. "Aye. There is really nothing for us to do here, but I won't complain about easy earned money," he said with a small grin on his lips.

Again Dwalin snorted. "If I wanted to make a vacation I would have visited my grandmother Bergljot," he replied with a sour expression. "What I wanted was a good orc skirmish or a nice little fight with a few bandits, not... this!" he said and pointed towards the peacefully trudging caravan.

Johren raised an eyebrow. "So you're one of the guys who like it hard, huh?" he asked with a grin on his face. Dwalin just shot him a grim look while his companion snickered on his horse. He already stopped reacting to Johren's dirty comments after the first day when he realized that it was useless. I was as if he told him to stop breathing, so he just rolled his eyes and continued scowling ahead.

"Awww, come on, just think about it this way," Johren said and began to lean down on his horse to get closer to Dwalin's ear. "The longer we travel the higher is the possibility that we run in some kind of trouble."

* * *

Fili's whole body ached. It wasn't an unfamiliar sensation, nor the worst he had ever experienced before, but the pain was still something he could happily do without. He rolled his shoulders while he walked through the semi-dark tunnels of the mines together with the others towards their sleeping quaters. Not only were his muscles sore and bruised, no, his whole arm still felt as if it was on fire, not to forget the dozen cuts that covered his body. Sleep would come difficult for him that night.

He winced when the motion pulled at the scab that had built on one of his cuts. Another few scars added to the rich and colorful collection he already had. He actually couldn't remember a time where his body didn't hurt. Every memory he had was accompanied with pain and suffering. He couldn't even remember a days where he didn't _sleep_ without it. And he knew that everyone here felt the same way. Well, everyone except the sadistic bastards with their shitty instruments of punishments.

And then, for the second time that day, Fili could hear pained screams. Inwardly he cursed whoever tripped over his own feet again, though he would never say it out loud. He had vowed to himself that he would never let anyone get hurt in front of him as long as he was living, but that didn't mean that he liked it in particular.

He pushed through the crowd of slaves that now stood still, most of them not even noticing him because of his height. He ignored the pain the shot through him whenever his wounds came into contact with someone or something. The further he got the louder the noises got, and now he could hear that there were multiple people yelling and screaming. When he pushed through the front row of the mob he stopped and scanned the scene in front of him.

There wasn't just one slave being punished, but five. An equal amount of supervisors stood over them. The closest of them of them to Fili just raised his foot and smashed it down on the hand of one of the man lying on the floor. A piercing scream left his throat while the overseer broke every single bone in his limb.

Watching it Fili gritted his teeth in anger and helplessness. There was nothing he could do though. There were just too many. If it had been one he could have distracted the overseer, but by so many there was no chance of pulling their attention onto himself alone.

Again the supervisor slashed out with his foot. With a sickening crack it connected with the slave's temple, and he went limp. Wide eyes Fili watched the scenery in front of him, listened to the terrified screams of his companions. There was nothing he could do, only watch as a mad glimmer sparkled in the supervisors eyes while they carried out their hideous profession. He had to watch helplessly as the overseer kicked the motionless slave on the floor again and again, a loony smile etched on his face.

Before he could tell his body to do otherwise Fili stepped forth and stepped between the overlooker and the nameless slave. He didn't know him, and he was most likely already dead, but Fili wasn't, and therefore he would do everything to stop atrocities like that. No corpse should be defiled, not even a slave's. When he broke his vow now he would never be able to forgive himself for as long as he lived, however long that may be in a place like this.

A little shocked the supervisor stopped in his onslaught before his expression turned into one of recognition. His gaze immediately darkened. "I know who you are," he growled in anger. "You are the little rat who started this revolt back then."

Fili's expression stayed hard and determined as stone while he stood in front of the overseer, but inwardly he flinched. When he recognized him, would he kill him now to prevent another revolt from happening? Or would he do even worse things to him than dead to show the others what happened when they stood up against them?

Meanwhile the other supervisors stopped in their actions and turned towards the confronting pair, anger evident on their faces. With a growl the overlooker in front of Fili made a step forward and punched him in the face. For another time that day the young dwarf lay on the floor, his face first numb from the punch before the pain exploded in every part of it.

But that was not the end of it. He couldn't remember what exactly happened, only that the other supervisors must have joined the first one. Everything else drowned in a deep sea of pain. Punched and kicks crackled down on him. Blood was flowing over his face and out of his mouth, his breathing became hard and his mind blurry. Nothing existed except pain and agony. He knew he would die now.

"Stop that!" someone yelled. At first Fili couldn't comprehend that someone said something at all, but when the attack suddenly stopped he felt immensely grateful for whoever spoke up. He tried to open his eyes, but even this simple task became a difficult feat for him. When he pried his lids open his sight was blurry, but he saw that the supervisors parted and made room for another person. He heard murmur, but nothing explicit, only the angered undertone of his torturers. He tried to concentrate on the conversation, but he was still a little dazed.

"... won't be of any use when they are dead, you idiots!" a bidding voice said, the one that made the overseers stop their actions.

"But we have to teach them a lesson, otherwise they will start rioting again!" one of the supervisors said.

"I don't care what you do with the humans, but this one is a dwarf! Do you even know how much he has cost?!"

No answer came to that question.

"That's what I thought. Let me explain it like this: A LOT!" the bidding man said again.

"But he just wouldn't stop causing trouble, Sir!" another one said.

"I know, but killing him will just bite us in the ass. If we can't get him to behave than we will simply sell him. We get rid of him and get a good piece of money out of him, too. Problem solved," the mandatory one said. Approving murmur followed. But before Fili could understand more of what was going on around him someone leaned down to him and pulled his head up by his hair.

"Time to sleep now, little dwarf," some said close to his face. Another bolt of pain shot through his head, and then everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello everyone! I hope you didn't miss me too much, but I'm here at last. I want to thank the two people who reviewed the last chapter: Zho500 and GregsMadHatter. And now on with the next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything**

Everything was dark when Fili opened his eyes. A thick fog was occupying his thoughts, paired with a strong confusion of where he was and how he got to this unknown place. A painful throbbing resounded in his head and he closed his eyes again with a groan.

He tried to lift his arm to rub his temple, but this little motion awoke the agony that was peacefully asleep in his body until then. His muscles were sore, the pain of cuts flashed through his consciousness, a fire was consuming his left arm and the dull pain of bruises was mulling his senses. He felt like shit.

He opened his eyes again, but a sudden nausea flared up when he felt the ground underneath him moving, and he took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves and stomach. After he calmed down again and the nausea was nothing more than an uncomfortable feeling in his midsection he started to think.

The easiest question to answer was the on of what actually happened. He could remember the ruckus in the tunnels when he was going back to the sleeping quarters. He remembered how he stood up for one of the tormented slaves, and inwardly he smacked himself over the head for this masochistic action. He skipped the part of his memories where he had to relive the nearly deathly beating until he came to the conversation he had overheard.

Which promptly lead him to his other question. The supervisors had said something about selling him to get him out of the mines. The darkness and the moving of the ground most likely meant that he was in a carriage just now, probably on the way to a slave market, if not directly to his new owner.

Fili took another few deep breaths before he tried to sit up. His whole body screamed at him to lie down again, but he ignore it and pulled himself into a sitting position before he began to shove himself backwards until he felt the wood of a cart wall behind him. Releasing the breath he didn't realize he has held until then he rested his painfully throbbing head against the wood, trying to decimate the spinning in his head. Although he wasn't standing he could still _feel_ the twirling of his vision, and that didn't help his stomach. He began to roll his limbs, checking if some of them were broken. Although some of them hurt quite bad he was reassured when he confirmed that nothing was too much out-of-order.

With a sigh he closed his eyes once again. What would happen now? Where would he be sold to? To another mine or maybe to a farm? At a farm he would at least be able to see the sky and feel the sun on his skin. Being a farm slave sounded like heaven on earth at the moment. Not to forget that he had a greater possibility to escape when he was not somewhere underneath the earth. A farm sounded unlikely though. He was a dwarf, and dwarfs were good with gems, oars and in forges. He would most likely end up in a mine once again.

He let his thoughts mull over the possibilities, the soft back and forth of the cart and his exhaustion slowly lulling him to sleep.

* * *

"I have another one!" Johren said cheerfully while he rode beside Dwalin. The dwarf let out a sigh in exasperation. He really liked the human, but sometimes he just wanted him to shut up.

"When do you kick a dwarf in the balls?" Johren asked and looked at Dwalin expectantly who rolled his eyes. He knew that he was going to hate this joke.

"When?" he asked nonetheless.

"When he is standing next to your girl telling her hair smells nice!" Johren said and began to roar with laughter upon his horse. Dwalin growled and glared at him, but the human didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he didn't seem to care.

"I swear to Mahal, when you tell another joke about dwarfs I will castrate you in your sleep!" he gritted out between his clenched teeth. Johren stopped laughing at that, though he still looked as if he was going to explode any second. Again Dwalin had to sigh in exasperation, though he was happy that he had his peace at last.

"Did someone ever tell you that you're a party pooper?" Johren asked eventually.

"I think someone mentioned that some when, yeah," Dwalin answered with a sour expression, still trying to burn the image of his companion's last joke out of his brain. It wasn't working as well as he thought it would.

"How old are you actually?" the human asked curiosity dripping from every word.

"Why do you want to know?" Dwalin shot back. He wasn't very keen in telling his new 'friend' of his age. He would just make a joke out of it.

"I just want to know how long you are already killing the mood," Johren answered and shot a beaming smile down from his horse.

"... 146," Dwalin eventually answered after he felt Johren's piercing eyes digging holes into his bald head.

The human let out a whistle. "Man! No surprise you always look as if someone put you too many vegetables into your bowl. But with a face like yours I would look so sour, too."

"Hey! Now listen you little-". Just when Dwalin was in the middle of shooting back various insults at his companion and even already raised his finger to point at him paired with his most evil glares he heard the horses in the front of the caravan neighing in fright and disturbance.

Without a second thought he grabbed the reigns of his pony and dashed forward, hearing Johren following close behind. Prepared for everything they reached the peak of the column. They had reached a fork, and from one of the two paths a small company with a wagon had come towards them. Both parties tried to calm down the horses which have seemed to have been scared by a wild boar that now lay dead at the wayside close to the forest to the left, two arrows embedded in its body.

Letting out an annoyed huff Dwalin relaxed his pose and rested his forearms on the pommel of his saddle. And there he thought he had a little luck and bandits tried to attack the caravan.

Johren meanwhile had dismounted his horse and stepped towards the frightened horses, trying to calm them down with soft words. Soon enough the animal stopped pulling at its reigns and stood still, though still a little nervously. "Yes, that's fine. Everything's fine," he said soothingly and caressed the steeds neck.

"Thank you," and man said and walked towards him and the horse. He looked greasy, with dirty and oily hair, mixed with a shaggy beard and bad teeth he showed all the world to see when he smiled. Dwalin wrinkled his nose in disgust. "She normally isn't so trustworthy of strangers," he said and took the reigns back from Johren.

"I have a good hand with the ladies," he said and smiled broadly. He turned towards the steed again and rubbed her neck once again. But then he haltered in his motions and grabbed for one of the saddlebags. Dwalin couldn't see what Johren found, and neither what he pulled out of the bag, but the reaction was more than enough to tell him that it was something unpleasant.

As soon as Johren had in his hands whatever it was he found the man who came up to him and had smiled at him just a second ago grasped at a sword that had hung at his belt. With a swift movement he pulled it out of its scabbard and swung it at Johren. But he saw the movement and quickly sidestepped the attack that has been aimed at his head. With another quick movement he pulled his own sword and was then able to parry the next swing.

With a curse Dwalin dismounted his pony, but not without seeing that the other members of the foreign company had taken up their arms as soon as they noticed that one of their own was engulfed in a fight. Grabbing his battle axes Grasper and Keeper from his back Dwalin sprinted towards the enemy that was the closest to him. He blocked the incoming sword with Keeper while Grasper came crashing down on the man's foot. A piercing scream fill the air before he embedded his other ace in his enemies chest, silencing his forever.

With a grunt Dwalin pulled his axe out of the man, not taking his eyes off the next foe that was running towards him, his own axe raised above his head. Dwalin sidestepped swiftly and brought his Grasper down on the man's back, cutting his spine in half.

When he raised his sight from the dead body to his feet he saw that the other hired guards had brought down most of the foreign company while the ones remaining were shot down by the unblinking archer standing on one of the carriages to have a better aim. With a scowl on his face he walked towards Johren who was slashing one of the strangers not far away.

"What was that about?" Dwalin asked gruffly when he finally stood beside the human. Johren said nothing, just picked something up from the ground with a rare serious expression. It was a metal stick as thick as his thumb with a symbol on one end. A branding iron.

"What does this mean?" Dwalin asked, but he already knew that wouldn't like the answer.

"With a branding iron like that traders mark their slaves," Johren said and spit out on the man he just killed. Dwalin's scowl deepened while he looked at the iron and then at the lone wagon that still stood in the middle of the street.

"There are probably some poor souls in there," Johren said and began walking towards the cart. "The traders must have been on their way to one of the markets or on their way to catch new slaves."

Dwalin followed him. Together they walked around the cart to see that the door was shut with a lock. Raising Keeper over his head Dwalin began to smash down on the piece of metal two times before it gave in and fell broken to the ground. Quickly Johren opened the door.

To their surprise only a single person sat inside, though they could see that it was no human but a dwarf that was hunched inside his back pressed to the back wall, his arm covering his eyes from the incoming light.

From what Dwalin could see the boy was around fifty and, to his surprise, had blonde hair, though the colour was hard to extinguish under the amount of dirt covering the lad. Blonde wasn't a common hair-colour for dwarfs, especially not in this part of middle-earth. When Dwalin took in the boy's battered condition he winced slightly.

Though he looked to be quite strong with sturdy shoulders and a good amount of muscles he was covered in blood and bruises. Various cuts and nearly black bruises covered the arms that were the only parts of the body looking out of the ragged shirts, but Dwalin was sure that more lingered beneath it. An angry red burn that couldn't be older than two or three days at most. When the boy lowered his arms and blinked against the light Dwalin saw that his face, too, was covered in blood and bruises. His right eyes was swollen, the skin over and under his left eyes had split and his nose was broken.

The boy blinked a few times more before he began to stare at Dwalin and Johren with blue eyes as big as saucers.

* * *

When he first heard the commotion outside Fili began to get slightly scared. What if an orc pack attacked? He had heard some of the other slaves talk about them, and as much as he hated his life he didn't want to be skinned alive at the hands of some deformed creature, thank you very much.

But then he heard someone or something hammer against the door and he had crept back against the wall as far as he possibly could. When the door opened he covered his eyes and face with his arms, not only to shield himself against the painfully bright light but also from a possible attack. He waited, but nothing came. No arrow, no sword, no hand to grab him and drag him outside.

Wary, but also slightly curious, he lowered his arms, only to see two men standing at the opening. Well, not exactly two men. More like one human and a dwarf, and for Fili it was strange to see one after over fifty-three years. He always knew that dwarfs were short, but know he realized for the first time how great the height difference was.

The human was lean and tall with short cropped brown hair and a scar that ran square over his face. The first thing he noticed at the dwarf was that he was bald and looked very intimidating, with lots of tattoos on his head and hands in which he held two blood smeared axes. Somehow he looked quite familiar, but Fili couldn't place him.

But one thing was for certain: those two were no slave traders. Both of them looked at Fili with pity and concern whereas a slave trader would have looked at him with disgust or even pervert pleasure for seeing him in such a condition.

"It's all right lad," the dwarf suddenly said gruffly to him and reached out a hand for him to grab after he put his axes back into their places on his back. Fili just looked at him. Although he knew that those two were no slave traders there was still the possibility that they were bandits and only wanted to torture or kill him and were just acting the role of concerned elderlies.

"I won't bite," the dwarf said again and winked Fili towards himself, a sign that he should come closer. Fili furrowed his eyebrows at him, at least as far as he could furrow them anyway. For some reason he didn't believe what he just heard.

"Maybe he's retarded," the man spoke, looking at his companion.

"No, I'm not," Fili said for the first time, glaring at the man. "But maybe you are." The dwarf burst out laughing at that and had to steady himself on the wall of the cart while the man looked at Fili with raised eyebrows.

Slowly Fili began to crawl towards the door, his limbs still sore and painful like the moment he woke up for the first time. The dwarf had calmed down again and the once hard but concerned look in his eyes was replaced with good humour. He didn't look so intimidating any more. Carefully Fili sat down on the edge of the cart and slowly slid to the ground.

His knees nearly buckled underneath him, but the man was quick to steady him by grabbing him by his shoulder, but with that he had grabbed right into one of the cuts underneath his shirt. Fili hissed in pain and the man quickly led him go. Fili leaned against the cart to remain upright while the other two were scanning him up and down.

"You look like shit," the human eventually said. Again Fili glared at him.

"No kidding Captain Obvious," he said and began to rub a sore spot on his shoulder.

"You're quite snappy for a-," the human said, but stopped himself mid-sentence.

"What, for a slave?" Fili finished it for him and saw how the other dwarf was punching his companion in the ribs.

"Very sensitive, dude," he said and shook his head.

"You don't have to tell me something about being sensitive," the man shot back, but the dwarf only glared at him. With a shrug of his shoulders the human turned towards Fili again. "I'm Johren," he said and inclined his head in greeting.

"Dwalin, at your service," the dwarf said and bowed to him shortly.

Fili furrowed his eyebrows once again. Dwalin? That name sounded kind of familiar. Hadn't there been someone back then who had a similar name? Dralin? No. Salin? No. Balin? Yes! He could remember a kind dwarf with a white beard who-

And then it came back to him.

Images of a big and intimidating dwarf flashed up in his head. He could remember a strong pad on his shoulders, a roaring laughter, a hand ruffling his hair. He could remember this dwarf speaking and sparring with his uncle and telling him stories of great the journeys he went on outside the mountains.

He could remember the dwarf that stood in front of him.

But could it be? Being saved from slave traders was already more luck than he could ever hope of, but being saved by someone he knew in his childhood and who was a close friend of his family was so much luck that it was already ridiculous.

But maybe... Maybe he could allow himself to hope that all of this was not a dream, a trick his mind was playing on him.

"... Mister Dwalin?"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello guys! I hope you had a nice week and are eager to read my next chapter. At this point I wanted to thank the ones that reviewed: Gratia Astra, Zho500, AutumnSapphire9, GregsMadHatter, Jimmy Candlestick, chunkiness, wardog85. Thanks you :)!**

**Disclaimer: Nope, still don't anything but the mistakes :P**

„... Mister Dwalin?"

The boy looked at him as if he just saw a ghost. His eyes were as wide as saucers and under the layer of blood and grime that covered his face he had gone as white as a sheet. Not that he had been tan to begin with.

Dwalin narrowed his eyes slightly. "Do we know each other?" he asked while he looked him over. As far as he could tell there was nothing that caught his eye on the boy. Although he hasn't met many blonde dwarfs in his life he couldn't remember this one, even without a broken nose and a swollen eye. But there was still something that he vaguely recognised, but it wasn't defined enough for a name or even a memory of their meeting in his head.

The boy still stared at him with wide eyes, not even blinking, and when he looked close enough Dwalin thought he was on the brink of tears. He felt a little awkward in his skin. He wasn't very good with emotional situations that didn't consist of anger, the lust for a good fight or drunken felicity, not to forget that the he looked at him as if he was the most beautiful thing in all of Middle-Earth.

The boy opened his mouth, still staring, but then closed it again and swallowed thickly. Again he opened his mouth, and this time he began to speak. "It's me, Fili."

Dwalin could just stare for a moment while the words sank in. Fili? Like in: Thorin's nephew Fili? The heir of the throne of Erebor? The one who disappeared fifty-three years ago?

And then he got angry. He made a step forward while he put on his most angry and most intimidating expression. "I don't know where you got that name from or how you know my relation to him, but let me tell you one thing," Dwalin said and pushed one of his fingers into the boy's chest while he brought his face closer, staring him directly into the eyes, "using this name unrightful will make me your worst enemy ever possible, did I make myself clear?" He pushed his face a little closer to emphasise his threat, seeing directly into the boy's wide and shocked eyes. "So let me ask you so I know what to write down on your gravestone: Who are you?"

The boy still stared at him in shock before he seemed to compose himself. "But, it's really me," he spluttered, now a small look of panic in his blue eyes.

"I warn you lad, don't carry it too far!" Dwalin snarled and took another step closer. How could he dare to dishonour Fili's name and memory by imposing as him? Didn't the boy know any shame? Did he think he, Dwalin, was a total idiot? If he thought that he could lie himself into the royal family then he was off the track!

The boy stumbled back wards and looked around frantically, as if he was searching for something. An expression of realization crossed his face and he looked at Dwalin once again. "How can I prove it?" he asked with a determined expression.

Dwalin scoffed and continued to glare at him. Well, if he wanted to _proof _who he was Dwalin would see through any lie that came past his lips. "All right, tell me something about your little sister," he eventually said after he thought of an appropriate question.

"Brother, not sister," the boy immediately said, but that still didn't make Dwalin believe him of his identity. Many dwarfs knew that Thorin had a second nephew, not niece. "Kili is fife years younger than I," the boy continued while he held Dwalin's gaze. "On the night he was born it has stormed and the healer nearly made it to our house. Uncle Thorin has gone outside to fetch him and I was alone with my mother, Dis, because my father, Fingal, has died four months earlier when the settlement has been attacked by wargs and orcs. Uncle lived with us since then to take care of Mum and me, and then of Kili, too.

The birth has lasted hours, and in the morning the storm quieted down and you and your brother, Balin, have visited. When Kili was there Balin told me to be a good and responsible older brother and you ruffled my hair and laughed before Thorin grabbed me and took me to Mum and Kili," the boy said and closed his mouth. He looked at Dwalin with a determined expression, but underneath he could see fear and panic of what might happen if Dwalin chose to not believe him.

Dwalin in return could only stare at him. Could this be possible? Could it be that he, by accident, found Thorin's long lost nephew, the one that was so long believed to be dead? Could it be that he had found the probably most loved and most missed member of his kin, his family, distant related or not?

He himself has never told anyone of what happened the night Kili was born, at least not in such detail. He might have told about the fact that it had stormed and that the healer, Oin, had nearly not made it to the house for the birth, but only because it was a good story and because he had joked that it might be the reason for Kili's wild temper that showed up once in a while. But he had never told anyone that he had ruffled Fili's hair, and he doubted that Balin and Thorin did.

"Fili..." Dwalin breathed and stared at the blonde dwarf in front of him in disbelief, still not quite able to grasp on to the realization of who stood there not even two meters away. Relief washed over the younger one's face which was quickly replaced with a bright smile and an eager nod.

Before he could stop himself Dwalin stepped forward and pulled the boy - Fili - into a tight embrace. He didn't care if Johren, who still stood close by, thought about him, neither did he care if it shattered his reputation of a fierce and unyielding warrior. The only thing he cared about was the dwarf in his arms and what he meant, not only to their people, but more importantly to him and his family. Dis had her first born son back after she had lost so much already. Kili was finally able to meet his older brother, the one he never had the chance to properly meet. And Thorin had his heir back, his beloved first nephew, the one that has been like his own son. He could never thank Mahal enough for this gift.

When he felt Fili return his embrace and how he buried his face in his shoulder Dwalin felt like crying. Even now that he had him in his arms he still couldn't completely belief it. It was too good to be true. After what felt like an eternity he loosened his grip and grabbed Fili's shoulder, holding him away at arm's length so look him over more closely.

Now that he knew who stood in front of him he recognised the featured that he thought he had seen somewhere before. The blue eyes were definitely Dis' and Thorin's, a feature very prominent in the line of Durin. The other thing was his hair and nose (although broken). He looked like his father, and although he had only knew him briefly and was never very close to him he could see the boy's father in him.

Dwalin raised his hand and cupped the back of Fili's neck, giving him one of this rare smile through teary eyes. He didn't feel ashamed in the slightest, for Fili was the one crying openly through his joy and dimpled smile, and the tears have already made their way through the blood and dirt on his face, leaving white trails behind.

"Oh Fili, what did they do to you," Dwalin said and, now that he was closer, could see the scars on the younger dwarfs body. Some where old, others fresh, and he could already see the scars that would form out of the recent wounds. He couldn't see a place that was untouched by them. Although Dwalin believed that scars were a sign of courage and strength, this was an entire different matter. This weren't battle scars, they were signs of unimaginable suffering, pain and torture and other things Dwalin didn't want to think about it. When he ever met who did this to Fili, his prince, the nephew of his best friend, than he would pay them back tenfold.

Fili didn't answer, but his faltered smile told Dwalin everything he had to know. The boy has been through a lot, and the thought alone made the anger Dwalin felt in his guts only burn fiercer than ever before. But there were more urgent matters at the moment.

"Come on," he said and patted Fili on the shoulder before he pulled him in the direction of the still standing caravan and his pony. "First you need to clean up, then your wounds need to be treated and then we have to find you something proper to wear."

"Hey, hold on a minute!" Johren piped up when they went past him. The dwarfs looked towards him, Dwalin annoyed and Fili a little uncertain. "I don't get anything! What the hell is going on? First you don't know each other, then he knows you, than you deny that he knows you, and then you two know each other and then you start to hug and cry and everything is love and flowers. I mean, who is this? " Johren said exasperated, pointing at Fili.

Dwalin stared at Johren for a moment before he raised a hand and pointed at Fili himself. "This," he began to say, "is Fili." With that he pulled the younger one past the incredulously looking human and towards the caravan.

* * *

Fili still couldn't believe it. Just this morning (at least he thought it has been morning) the only thing he had hoped for in his life was to be sold to a farm and not another mine. Just this morning he had still believed that he would never see his family and home ever again and wondered when he would eventually die.

And now here he sat at a cosy fire and wrapped in warm (although too large) clothes with the prospect of getting home.

He was free.

He never even dared to dream about it. Sure, he had thought of escape more than once, but it has always seemed to be an impossible feat, the sweet air of freedom nothing more than the faintest illusion in his head. And now he sat here, free to do whatever he wanted, free to go wherever he wanted. It was too good to be true and he feared that he would wake up any given moment.

After Fili had convinced Dwalin of his real identity he had led him straight to the healer that went with the caravan. Everyone had looked at him in shock, as if they just witnessed an orc dancing ballet, and for the first time in centuries Fili had felt self-conscious, but Dwalin's glares and snarls had send them off quite fast. The healer himself had looked shocked, too, but he had caught himself without Dwalin threatening him in any way and quickly began to clean, stitch and warp Fili's injuries.

Afterwards Dwalin had led him to a small stream that had run not to far off of the rode inside the forest after he had gone to his pony and got some of his spare clothes for him. After that he had left and stationed himself a little away to give him a little privacy while he cleaned himself, although he lever let him fully out of his sight, as if he would disappear when he looked away.

The water on his skin had been odd to say the least, not to mention the feeling of being _clean_. He had been to used of being dirty and only covered in rags that revealed more than they covered that the warm feeling of a proper shirt and coat on his skin was, although not unwelcome, rather distracting. It just was so _different_. And not to forget the boots! It nearly felt as if he held his feet _imprisoned_ by the thick leader surrounding them.

The caravan had built a camp at the place where the fight has occurred for it was quickly getting darker. Dwalin had set them at the fire at which the human that has helped freeing him -Johren- already sat. He had looked at Fili with a warm smile and at Dwalin with a small glare. They had sat in more awkward than comfortable silence while Dwalin went away to get them something to eat and to talk to the leader of the caravan to tell him that thy had another one to feed. It was just a 'friendly' information, not a request. .

When the older Dwarf had set a steaming bowl with stew into his hands Fili could only stare at it. Dwalin had (almost scared) asked if something was the matter, but Fili quickly shrugged it off and began to eat his first hot and proper meal in decades. He believed that he had never tasted something as delicious as that. Alone the thought of meat and potatoes in his meal had made his mouth water a week before, but now he could actually _taste_ them. He had never felt so good as when the delicious stew had warmed him from the inside.

Everything has been like as if he was sleep walking. Not that he ever knew what it felt like (for he couldn't remember to ever have sleep walked), but everything that happened seemed to happen to someone else, not him. It just couldn't be. It had to be a dream. The most wonderful dream he ever had. He had warm clothes, boots, his wounds didn't ache as much any more, he was free - and most importantly - he was with family. The only fear he had left was waking up from this dream.

He had been so anxious that hadn't been able to sleep at all. He had pretended to sleep, for Dwalin was acting like a giant, ugly and intimidating mother-hen and told him several times to 'Lie down damn it!'. But he simply couldn't. What if, when he woke up, he would be back in the wagon? What if he woke up when he was brought to his new owners? What if, when he woke up, he was still in the mines? No, he couldn't sleep, at least not now.

Fili sighed while he sat at the crackling fire. It was the last still going. The others already died down while the other members of the caravan slept soundly through the night. Fili watched his two companions sleep. Johren was spread out and snored happily in his sleep, smiling and twitching sometimes. Dwalin on the other hand was seeping like a rock, as stoic and unmoving, but snoring even louder than anyone else in the camp.

Fili smiled silently to himself, the first genuine and truly content smile he could remember since his capture. He was glad that Dwalin was the one who found him. He didn't know if he would be able to get home if someone else would have found him in that carriage. The only thing that bothered him was that his snoring was drowning the chirping of the birds.

The sky was already getting lighter and lighter, taking on a light blue colour, and the birds already begun to sing hours ago while the sun slowly but steadily made her way up into the sky. Fili had been sitting at the fire all throughout the night, and he knew that he would regret the neglected sleep the coming day, but there had been too much to see.

The trees of the wood, the horses, the people around him, the bats flying over his head, the twinkling stars in the pitch black sky above him. And now he wanted to see the sun rising over the tree tops. This right has been denied from him for too long already for sleep to take it from him once again.

In his little world that slowly widened its realm it was the most beautiful thing in the entire earth.

Fili couldn't prevent a broad grin forming on his face when the first golden rays of the sun made their way over the forest and shone him directly on the face. They broke the chill that had lain over him and the land during the night, and just like they warmed his skin and defeated the cold they also seemed to defeat any doubts the he had left.

Something so good, so warming, so wonderful and pure couldn't be a part of his imagination, and imagination that had suffered under indescribable pain, torture, slavery and darkness. Fili felt like crying again.

He was finally free.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I'm soooooooooo sorry! When I posted the first chapter I was actually determined to update once a week, and now look how much time has passed! I still can't promise that I will update once a week, because I'm an incredible lazy person now that I don't have to go to school anymore. **

**Still sorry TT-TT**

**Disclaimer: Let's see... Nope, still don't own The Hobbit**

Fili held his nose in the air with closed eyes while the wind gently caressed his face and played with his hair. It smelled of freshly cut grass, moisture and leafs, mixed into an intoxicating odour that could only be found in heaven itself. He took a deep gulp of it, stretching his lungs until he thought he would burst before he released his breathe in a satisfied sigh.

He had to blink a few times when he opened his eyes again. The sun hung high in the sky, a few fluffy looking clouds giving her company. His eyes were still not entirely used to such an amount of light, but he didn't care how much they watered or how much his head hurt from the radiation. Like he had predicted he regretted not sleeping the last night, but at the same time he was glad he didn't give in to his exhaustion. Thankfully he didn't need to ride on a pony or horse or walk beside the caravan. Instead he was neatly seated on one of the carriages, comfortable between bundles of wool.

Like the day before Dwalin didn't leave his side for a single second. Since he woke up he had always been close by, keeping an eye on Fili as if he could disappear into thin air any moment. The large dwarf was riding beside him, not two meters away, acting like a dragon protecting his treasure. Whenever someone he didn't know came too close he would eye them warily, and sometimes even send them away with a snarl.

Fili though was far too busy than to notice it. He was rather occupied with observing his surroundings, not caring about his fatigue. The rustling of the wind in the trees and the wild chirping of the birds sounded like music to his ears. The wind and sunshine caressed his skin in equal measure like a long-lost lover. The juicy colour of the grass and the rich colour of the sky were to strong that his eyes nearly hurt looking at them. Everything was perfect.

And for the first time since he remembered Fili felt happy. There was no promise of fear, punishment or pain soiling the atmosphere. No smell of blood and smoke and excrements polluting the air. Only fresh air and perfection. It was like heaven... Well, nearly.

"Hey! Mister Dwalin!" Fili addressed the older dwarf with a smile. "When can we go back to the Blue Mountains?" he asked.

"I have to finish this job," Dwalin grumpily replied. "We are at our destination in probably two days. Then we go back." He had actually thought about returning on the spot, but that meant that he wouldn't get any money for his work, not to forget that they didn't have provisions or even proper clothes for Fili. He was still struggling in his decision if he should accord Thorin a message, but he wanted to see his and Dis' expressions when they saw the lost prince. He knew it was silly, but he wanted to bring them this message himself.

Dwalin's gut clenched for a moment when he reminded himself of Kili. The boy didn't even know that he had an older brother. He didn't want to imagine his reaction when Fili would suddenly stand in front of his doorstep. No, he had to get a message to Thorin so he could prepare his nephew, not to forget that it may spare him a heart attack from the shock.

"How long do we have to travel until we are home?" Fili asked next, the word 'home' making him all giddy inside. It sounded unfamiliar on his tongue, but pleasant all the same.

"Two weeks. More or less," Dwalin grumbled. He still wondered how he should spend two weeks with the boy. What should he do when Fili suddenly started crying, or got some kind of panic attack? It had already been hard babysitting Kili back then when he was a child, and if Fili was just nearly as bad Dwalin didn't know how he should survive two weeks with him without losing the last bit of hair he had left. Although Fili was as good as grown up he acted like a little dwarfling that got out of the house for the first time in his life, though he could also act mature beyond his years when the situation demanded it. It was an odd contrast.

"And how are the others?" came Fili's next question.

"Who?" Dwalin inquired, playing dump although he knew who he was talking about. He really didn't feel like talking about it.

Fili rolled his eyes at the older dwarf before he stared at him expectantly. "You know who I mean. How is Mum? And Uncle Thorin? Tell me something about Kili!" he insisted and looked at Dwalin with big and excited eyes.

Dwalin had to swallow hard. What should he say? That his mother has been devastated after his disappearance? A shadow of her former self? That his uncle became cold and unapproachable? That his brother had to suffer the consequences of his captivity and had to life a life with which he was more than unhappy? Yeah, that would cheer Fili up _a lot_.

Instead he cleared his throat before he answered. "Your mother and Thorin are both fine. They became a little overprotective over your brother after you were gone," he said while he avoided meeting Fili's gaze, not lying, but still keeping the whole truth to himself.

Fili stared at him for a while before he spoke again. "You know, you could give me a little more information than _that_," he said, raising an eyebrow.

Dwalin groaned internally. Why did it has to be him who had to tell Fili all the crap that happened? He wasn't exactly the most sensitive or compassionate dwarf out there. "Listen," he said and turned around in his saddle to face the younger dwarf properly, a grave expression on his face. "It hasn't been easy for all of us after you were gone," he started, looking Fili in the eyes. Fili on the other had now understood the seriousness of the conversation and the cheery mood in which he had been in just a minute ago sobered.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself Dwalin continued. And with his next sentences he saw the boy's happy expression crumble bit by bit. He told him of how they have not been able to find him all those years ago, he told of how grief overtook his mother for months and how frantic his uncle has searched for his beloved nephew. Dwalin told of how Fili's disappearance had affected the way his mother and uncle treated his brother, how he was always kept in sight out of fear that something might happen to him and how unhappy Kili was with his situation, not able to have a minute to himself, in freedom. And when Dwalin was done he only hoped that he didn't make the boy cry.

Fili just stared at him, his eyes wide in shock, his hand gripping the edge of the carriage so hard his knuckles turned white. "All of this because of me?" he breathed.

Dwalin groaned and just wanted to punch the younger dwarf over the head. "You dare blame yourself for it now!" he snarled at him. Fili blinked a few times in confusion, now looking at Dwalin with a puzzled expression.

"But if I hadn't been - " Fili started, but got soon interrupted.

"Listen to me lad," Dwalin said and leaned a little closer towards the carriage to emphasize his words. "This. Was. Not. You. Fault. Get it? And if you ever say something else I smack you over the head. Understood?" he said and glared at Fili.

Again Fili blinked a few times in confusion before a sad smile crept onto his features and he turned his head to look ahead. Slowly he nodded, but stayed silent otherwise. Sighing Dwalin rubbed his forehead. "I'm not good with all this emotional crap, okay? I'm not gonna smack your head," he said, trying to easy the atmosphere that had tensed by his words.

Fili gave a little chuckle at that and looked at the older dwarf, the sad smile still on his face. "I think you're making a rather good job so far," he said. Dwalin could only snort at that. Yeah, sure, as if he, Dwalin, could ever be good in making little dwarfs who just came out of slavery feel better.

They didn't say anything after that, not knowing _what_ to say or how to approach another topic. But thanks to Johren they didn't need to. "Hey guys! Why the long faces?" he asked bluntly when he rode up to them, a smile on his face.

Dwalin just glared at him. One of the human's jokes was not what he needed in this situation. "Family business," he simply said and hoped that Johren would let it slide.

No such luck. "If that's such a sore topic than I best make you feel better!" Johren exclaimed joyfully and turned a little in his saddle, preparing for a joke. Dwalin just groaned while Fili raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Why do men find it difficult to make eye contact?" the human asked and looked at his companions expectantly, waiting for a reply. Fili – still looking suspiciously – shrugged with his shoulders. "Because breasts don't have eyes!" Johren blurted out and immediately began laughing.

Dwalin could only smack his hand against his forehead while Fili frowned. "Never encourage him to make a joke," Dwalin said to him in exasperation.

Fili continued frowning as if he was thinking about something before he replied. "I don't understand this joke. What do breasts have to do with eye contact?" he asked and looked to Dwalin, confused.

Dwalin in return could only blink before he let out a sigh and began to rub his forehead. "You still have a lot to learn about the world."

* * *

The caravan arrived in the destined settlement at the afternoon of the second day. They rode into the small town until they reached the centre where the local market was held. While they went through the streets Fili looked around in awe.

He has never seen such huge buildings, the two story houses looking like mountains in his eyes. With fascination he observed the people who were walking along or past them. They were wearing leather boots, colourful dresses, cloaks and solid linen shirts. There was no sight of ripped and torn pieces of fabric that distantly resembled a shirt or of bags that were used as dresses. All of them were clean and some of them were laughing and wearing happy expressions. Not that he hadn't seen those by the people in the caravan, but it was still strange for Fili so see them on the faces of everyday people.

A few children ran out of an alleyway towards the arriving caravan, laughing and chasing each other, pointing and whispering excitedly at some of the mercenaries that rode along the carriages. Fili had to smile at the sight. He has never seen children so happy and carefree. Although he has been able to get a smile or a giggle out of some children in the mines, there has always been the dark foreshadow of their surroundings that extinct the little flame he has been able to ignite.

After a while they reached the marketplace, and Fili's eyes widened in wonder when he took in the crowd of people that had gathered. Merchants were offering their products with booming voices, women were chattering in small crowds and men were laughing loudly over a joke.

When the caravan stopped Fili was a little startled when someone began to pull the bags of wool off the carriage. Hurriedly he jumped off and stepped aside to not bother anyone while they worked. He looked around in search for Dwalin and spotted him with the other mercenaries, the leader of the caravan standing in front of them and paying them their fees.

Not knowing what to do while he waited for his companion he began to look around again. He has never seen so many goods in one place. One merchant was selling fresh vegetables, and although Fili wasn't sure if he liked them the sight of so much food in one place made his mouth water. Another one was selling baskets while a woman – most likely his wife – was weaving them beside the booth. Not far away a smith had his forge and was hammering onto a glowing horseshoe, the sound of metal against metal a familiar and reassuring sound to his ears.

While his gaze wandered his eyes were caught on something in the middle of the marketplace, partly covered by the bodies of numerous humans. A solid tribune was build at the centre of the place, most likely used for public announcements and occasional executions.

Suddenly Fili's heart began to pound in his chest and it became hard for him to breath, just as if he ran ten miles without stopping. A mental image flashed before his eyes. _Many people gathered in a crowd in front of a pedestal on which one of his captors pulled him on._

He sank to his knees, not able to stand upright any longer. The only thing he could hear was the hammering of his heart and the blood rushing through his ears. He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself down, but his lungs were barely able to take in enough air. The sound of the smithy – metal against metal - was penetrating his senses, and now it didn't sound so reassuring anymore. It was as if the hammer was crashing down on his chest over and over again.

He startles when he felt a hand come down on his shoulder. He turned around frantically and found Dwalin standing behind him, a frown on his face. Fili saw his lips moving, but he couldn't make out what he was saying. Again he tried to take deep breaths, this time trying to focus on his actual surrounding. He was under the clear sky, not in some crappy mine. The only companion he had was an old friend, a part of his family, not a bunch of slave traders. With such thoughts his heart and head began to calm down again, although he had still trouble breathing properly.

"I asked if you're all right, lad?!" he heard Dwalin say, his voice gruff although Fili was still able to filter the worry out of his words. Fili tried to stand up, but his knees were a little weak and he nearly fell down again if Dwalin wouldn't have grabbed his elbow to keep him upright. Taking another big amount of air Fili turned his head to look the older dwarf in the eyes. His brows were furrowed, but worry shone through his eyes while he looked Fili over.

"I just got a little dizzy," Fili replied, hoping to sound casually. He didn't want to worry his companion even more while he himself didn't even know what just happened. Dwalin's eyebrows furrowed a little further in suspicion, but he eventually nodded.

"Come on," he said and pulled Fili into the direction of one of the shops that were located in one of the houses the lined the marketplace. "I got my money and now we're going to buy some proper clothes."

The woman inside the shop was very nice Fili found out. She took his measures in a quick and trained motion, flinching a little when she took in his battered and bruised state, before she hurried into the back of the shop to find something that fitted his small statue. She came back a few minutes later with her arms full of clothes. She shooed him behind a divine so he could dress in private.

The brown leather boots fitted perfectly, but the pants were too long for his short legs. The sleeves of his shirt and the dark brown cloak were too long as well, but the shopkeeper was staking them off so she could shorten them. With a smile she told them to come back in three hours, though they already bought the boots.

Next Fili and Dwalin went to the stables, trying to buy another pony in addition to the one Dwalin already owned. The owner of the stables was rather old and had already lost some of his teeth, but he sold them a white mare that was easy to ride for a good price, as well as the equipment. Fili never saw a more beautiful animal. When he reached a hand up to caress her neck she nudged her nose against his cheek and he had to smile. He decided to name her Daisy.

In the remaining two hours the two dwarfs were walking around the marketplace buying provisions and preparing for the upcoming journey towards the Blue Mountains. During this time Fili eyes the tribune wearily. He didn't get such a strange attack again that day, but the memory of it made him uneasy.

Eventually they were able to gather up Fili's new clothes, but at that time the sun already hung low in the sky, and they decided to start their way back home the next day and settle down in an inn for the night. The tavern in the ground floor was crowded with people, and Fili felt a little uneasy, but Dwalin quickly pushed themselves a way through them towards a table on which some of the people of the caravan were already seated after he had got them a room for the night.

With a huff he and Dwalin fell down on one of the benches at the table and quickly ordered an ale and a large plate of food for them both. Some of the other mercenaries were already drunk when they stepped into the tavern, and thus the atmosphere was light-hearted and filled with laughter. Fili quickly felt himself ease up and join them in their elation, although he still didn't understand most of Johren's jokes.

Somehow he got the feeling that everything was going to be all right.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: All right guys! Here's another chapter, and I hope you like it :) Now we come to the part where it gets interesting, and the part I've been looking forward to**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own the Hobbit**

"You have to hold your right arm higher!" Dwalin advised Fili while he let his own weapon travel towards him. The weapon though was a wooden stick, and the advice was a gruff order, but Fili complied nonetheless, blocking the incoming attack.

They have been on the road for several days now. After they had spend the night in the inn in the settlement Dwalin had gone out early to a courier to send Thorin the message that he found his nephew. He had thought a great deal of time what to actually write, but in the end he had decided to a brief repetition of the events. He has never been good with words, Balin was the one with the silver tongue.

When he came back he had first noticed that Fili's bed was vacated. A little panicked he had stepped up to it, but he soon found out that his worry had been baseless. Curled up in his blanket Fili had rolled himself up on the floor right beside his bed, sleeping peacefully. Actually Dwalin had trouble waking the boy up.

After they had eaten a hearty breakfast and stored their provisions in the saddlebags of their ponies they had said goodbye to the hungover members of the caravan. Fili has had a little more trouble saying goodbye, especially to Johren who he owned a great debt, but in the end the prospect of going home to his family had blown away the dark feelings.

Already on the same day Fili had asked Dwalin about fighting lessons. But not with the eagerness and fascination of a child but with an air of necessity and a fierce determination in his blue eyes. Without further questions Dwalin agreed. At least it was something he was good at.

He had to admit that he was a quick learner and Dwalin found out that he could hold his sword (in this case though a wooden stick) with both hands, which would give him a great advantage. What Fili lacked in talent he was balancing with determination. Of course it was still a little early to say something about the boy's talent.

Another thing Dwalin noticed was that Fili seemed to have a great stamina. They've been at it for two hours now and just a short while ago the boy showed significant signs of exhaustion. He lowered his own 'weapon' and looked at the younger dwarf in front of him a little more closely. His brows were furrowed into a determined frown and his lips parted to allow ragged breaths into his lungs. The swelling in his face has already lessened in the few days they've been on the road, so he was able to make out more of his face. He could recognise a distant resemblance to Thorin, but Fili definitely looked more like the paternal side of his family. If he had met him on the streets he wouldn't have thought that he was related to the line of Durin.

"Let's take a break," Dwalin said and walked towards the camp they had set up before they had started their training. He pulled one of the saddlebags towards him and rummaged around it a little before he found waterskin and threw it towards Fili. He caught it with the hand not holding the stick and nodded in gratitude before he took a few large swings out of it.

While Dwalin took a sip of another waterskin himself he wondered if Thorin already got the message he had send for him. The settlement has been close to the Hills of Evendim which were not far away from the Blue Mountains. Although he told the courier to give the message to one of the outposts of the Ered Luin close to the base of the mountains the journey mustn't have been very long when both parties, the courier as well as the dwarfen guard, rode with a horse and pony.

Dwalin knew it was childish, but all he wanted right now was to see Thorin's face when he got the message.

* * *

"Concentrate Kili," Balin said without looking up from his scroll. He knew that the lad was starting to doze off in his lessons once again. It was a common occurrence he was used to by now. The boy had far to much energy which made his situation so much more awful for him. Sitting still and studying just wasn't his métier.

Balin only heard a faint groan and a huff before everything went silent again in the room. Three times a week Balin was giving lessons to the youngsters in their little village close to Thorin's Hall, and every time Thorin would bring his nephew over, and Balin knew that he was supposed to watch over the lad so he would not cause any kind of mischief. Not that he would have been able to do anything with always at least one guard watching his very steps. But it also gave him the chance to meet others his age, though he wasn't exactly close to anyone.

All in all Balin felt sorry for the young heir. For the over-protectiveness, for the solitude and (most of all) not letting him now why all of this was necessary (at least that was what Thorin said). He has had many heated arguments with his old friend if they should let the lad know about his lost brother or not. Personally Balin thought that it would make Kili understand his mother and uncle and their ways to protect him better when he knew why they were doing it, and maybe he would stop being the little rascal he was (at least to some degree). Thorin though didn't want to speak of his lost nephew. He was barely able to speak out his name without nearly choking on his own guilt, so telling the whole story about his disappearance. He didn't even want to think about Dis. Whenever her first-born is mentioned she would tense up and try to change the topic with whatever force was necessary, and when she thought she was alone she would start crying.

Balin knew that it was hard on them, but the more time passed the more he realized that the wounds Fili's disappearance had caused were deeper than he originally thought. After years on the streets and after the great loss of Azanulbizar the Durin's lost yet another family member. And this one family member was one too much for them to bear. He doubted that the wounds would ever start to heal.

He sighed and tried to make his mind stop thinking about it. There wasn't really much he could do about it than support his own brother when he helped sneaking the young Durin out of the house.

Balin's head snapped up when he heard a knock on the door and quickly stood up to answer it, looking out of the window on his way and noticing that the sun was already starting to set. When he opened the door he was greeted by the smiling face of Dori and the bright red head of Gloin. They exchanged the common pleasantries while Ori and Gimli started to pack their things together, the latter obviously grateful to finally leave the room and the scrolls and books it contained behind.

When Balin closed the door again after his students left he noticed how longingly Kili stared at it and then out of the window. It nearly broke Balin's heart to see the lad to totally heart-broken, but he pulled himself together and went back to his own readings.

One after the other his students began to diminish until only Kili was left. It was always like that. Thorin, although a king in exile, was still a king and had duties to attend to, and Dis was no warrior. She would never come and collect Kili herself. She was just far too afraid that something could happen on their way and she would loose her other son as well. Balin had once scoffed at it and called it irrational, but she just wouldn't give way to any kind of reasoning.

"Come on, lad. I think your uncle will be here shortly," Balin said with a reassuring smile. Nodding Kili started to pack up his things as well. He just finished when there was another knock on the door. Quickly Balin went up to it and opened, but contrary to his expectation it wasn't Thorin who stood at his front door but a guard, and from what he could tell from his armour and the pony behind him a guard from one of the outposts.

"Is something the matter?" Balin quickly asked. A guard from an outpost showing up was not a good sign. It usually meant that something bad happened.

"Yesterday a human courier showed up at our sentinel," the guard said, still a little out of breath from his journey. "He carried a message of Lord Dwalin for Lord Thorin with him and said it was urgent." At the name of his brother Balin's brows furrowed. "I was told that the king is supposed to be found here," the other dwarf continued, rummaging in his pockets and pulling out a folded piece of paper.

"That he is," a deep voice suddenly said from behind the guard, and when Balin looked past him he could see Thorin coming towards them, his brows furrowed in his (now) usual hard glare. Quickly the guard straightened his back and held out the folded letter.

"From Lord Dwalin, my king," he said when Thorin took the paper and began to break the wax seal. He looked up once and nodded towards the guard.

"There is an inn nearby. You can rest there for the night before you go back," he said and the guard bowed quickly before taking his leave. Turning back towards the paper he quickly unfolded it and started reading. At that time Kili, too, had made it to the door and observed the exchange curiously, standing right beside Balin whose brows were still furrowed in worry.

At first Thorin said nothing, only his brows drew impossibly closer towards each other. But then his body language changed from one moment to the other, as if he was slapped in the face. His whole body grew tense and his eyes wide while his eyebrows, furrowed together into an intense frown, suddenly went slack, as if Thorin didn't has the strength left to keep them together. To Balin's utmost surprise and worry his king even stopped breathing.

He never witnessed such a reaction in his king and friend, and he could see in the corner of his eyes that Kili, too, seemed to be quite surprised and even worried. A piece of news that had to get such a reaction out of his uncle couldn't possibly be a good one.

To Balin's relief Thorin soon started breathing again, although now it was ragged, and he could practically hear how rapidly his heart must be beating in his chest. He saw how Thorin's eyes scanned the lines on the paper over and over before he continued to read the rest of the letter. And when he was finished he started all over again.

Balin grew increasingly worried the longer he watched his king in his state of utter shock and disbelieve. Eventually Thorin stopped reading and his hands dropped to his sides, letter still in hand while he began to stare at nothing in particular, trying to process what he just read.

"What is it?" Balin asked anxiously after a few minutes of utter silence. Startled Thorin looked up as if he forgot that he and his nephew were still standing next to him. Silently he held up his hand and offered Balin the letter. Quickly he snatched it out of his king's hand and let his eyes fly over the written lines, totally aware that Kili was looking over his shoulder.

He knew for a fact that his brother was a very direct dwarf who didn't value the written word as much as the sword, so he was rather surprised when he saw how wordy his little brother has become in this letter. Word for word he read through it, and at first he couldn't make out what could have driven his king into such a state of shock.

But when he reached a certain part, he knew what did.

"By Mahal," Balin breathed out. There was nothing else he could think to say. Never did he think he would witness this day, so how could he be possibly prepared for it? With wide eyes he looked up and stared into Thorin's ice blue eyes. The only difference now though was that they weren't so icy any more. Now he could see a glimmer of hope in them. A glimmer that he didn't doubt would grow into a hell-fire and would melt down the hard and cold walls Thorin had build around his heart. A glimmer, with its warm glow, would soon heal the festering wounds still left in the Durins' souls.

"Who is Fili?" Kili suddenly asked, and Balin nearly jumped out of his skin. All the warmth that had flooded his own body by the thought of his friend, his family, finally healing and recovering from the wounds of the past left him for a moment when he reminded himself of the young dwarf. He somehow knew that the task of telling him about his lost brother would be a gruesome one , and he really didn't look forward to it.

Balin let out a deep sigh before he turned around to face the younger dwarf and lay a hand on his shoulder. "There has always been a lot we had to tell you laddie, and now I belief the time has come."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: And here I am again! This chapter had been quite an ordeal because I wanted to make it as realistic and emotional as possible, so it lasted a while until I was finished. I hope you are happy with the outcome. Don't forget to review afterwards to tell me how I did ;)**

**And again a big thanks to everyone who review the last few times. I totally forgot it, so I'm catching up for it now**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hobbit and I don't make any kind of profit with this story**

Seriously, Kili didn't know what all this fuss was about. At first his uncle was all catatonic and shocked as if he had seen Mahal himself, then Mister Balin practically began _cursing_ and now even his mother had a mental breakdown. At first he had been curious about the letter that had caused all this uproar, but now he wasn't so sure if he really wanted to know what it meant, out of fear he would have a heart attack from it. He had only been able to read a few paragraphs, but what he could read didn't give him an explanation of what the hell was going on with his family.

His mother was now sitting on the couch in the living room. She had buried her face in his uncle's chest and fisted her hands into his tunic while she wept and repeatedly sobbed something that suspiciously sounded like "He's alive". After Thorin had given her the letter and she had begun to read she, too, had looked at it in shock and had read it numerous times before she had looked up to her brother who had only nodded. After that her whole body had begun to tremble before a first dry sob had escaped her lips. After that the tears came running down her face and her weeping became so much her legs soon gave out underneath her. Kili hated to see his mother in such a state, and he cursed this 'Fili', whoever he was, for distressing her like that.

But still no one was about to tell him who this guy was this letter was about, not even Balin who stood behind the couch and patted Dis' dark hair soothingly. Everything Kili could do was to stand next to the fire, waiting for someone to stop ignoring him. After a several long minutes his mother's sobs were slowly tickling away. She raised her head and wiped her tears away with her hands before she tried to stand up. Her legs were still a little shaky and Thorin kept close in case they gave out, but that didn't stop Kili's mother from approaching him.

Her eyes were red and puffy, just like her whole face, but she didn't look troubled or sad, actually the opposite. Her eyes were shining with something Kili has never seen before in his mother, and her whole body seemed to glow in some kind of happiness that he could barely believe who was standing in front of him. Cautiously Dis raised her hands and cupped Kili's face, looking him straight in the eyes before her whole face split up in a giant smile.

Kili, though, couldn't feel the same happiness. "Is now someone going to tell me what the hell is going on?" he asked, not quite able to keep the irritation and confusion out of his voice. Thorin and Balin shared an odd look before they turned their faces back to the younger dwarf while Dis suddenly began to bite her bottom lip.

"Let's sit down, honey," she said and guided her son towards the couch. Getting suspicious Kili sat down obediently, furrowing his brows when he noticed that the adults in the room shared another look. His mother sat down right beside him and took his hands in her own, looking at them before she let out a sigh and raised her head to look him in the eyes again

"You know that our family has been through a lot," she began talking. "At first we lost Erebor to a fire drake, then your great-grandfather tried to reclaim Moria on his own and was tortured and beheaded by the Pale Orc Arzog." Her voice broke at this point and she stopped, clearly trying to regain her composure. "During the war where we tried to avenge his death and to reclaim the halls of our ancestors thousands of dwarfs died, including your uncle Frerin." Her voice broke again and Kili could see tears threatening to break out again before Thorin stepped forward and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Your grandfather, although he build us a new life here in the Blue Mountain, wasn't satisfied and went east to kill the dragon and to bring Erebor back into our hands by himself, but he never returned," Dis eventually continued, but this time tears stole their way down her face, but she didn't stop talking. "Then I met your father and everything went good for a while, but then he died, too. I thought I couldn't bear it, to lose another one of my family, another person I love, but I still had you," Dis said and held Kili's gaze. "You and your brother."

Kili was confused. At first he couldn't comprehend what she said. He knew that his father died shortly after he was born, but what didn't this has to do with this 'Fili' guy?... Wait a minute, did she just say _brother_?!

"Wha-What do you mean by that?" Kili asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer. His mother bit her bottom lip again while she looked him in the eyes, and if he didn't know it any better he would say that she looked guilty, but then the look was replaced with a stony expression so he wasn't sure if his eyes didn't play a joke on him.

"Kili, you weren't my first-born," Dis eventually said, her voice cutting through the thick atmosphere like a knife. She took a deep as if to brace herself for what was to come next. "Five years before you were born I gave birth to another son, your older brother. Fili."

Still Kili said nothing, he could only stare at his mother. He had a brother? An _older_ Brother? So this 'Fili' guy Dwalin wrote about in his letter was his older brother? He just couldn't believe it. He knew how it would have looked to the others in the room, but he just couldn't stop himself from letting out a few laughs. Dis looked at him confused and maybe even a little frightened before he stopped again. No one has laughed with him. If it was a joke they would have laughed with him. Why didn't they laugh? "You're not joking, are you?" Kili asked, and slowly the words his mother said sank in. _He had a brother_.

Dis shook her head. "No sweetheart. Shortly after your father died Fili went missing in the woods. For weeks we tried to find him, but to no avail. We couldn't find a single trace of him. He was just gone," she continued, and at the last part her voice broke again. Kili has never seen his mother so broken before like in this moment, but in the next second her face lit up again with the giant smile from earlier. "But now Dwalin has found him and is bringing him back home."

Kili saw the drastic changer in his mother. All his life there was this subliminal sadness in her behaviour. On some days he had even caught her staring into blank space, her eyes full of sadness. He had always thought that it was because of her lost family or because of his father, but now he knew what she had been thinking about in those moments. He had noticed the same with his uncle, especially when he had looked at Kili. There has always been this grief and guilt in his look. But now when he looked at them both he could see how much this letter has changed them. They were practically glowing with happiness and love and hopefulness that he barely recognized them. But he just couldn't share this happiness.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he eventually asked, and his uncle and mother shared a look before they turned their eyes back at him.

"You have to understand how hard it was to lose Fili," Thorin said to Kili's surprise. "He was barely old enough to learn his letters and to tie his own boots, and to lose him at such a young age was a hard blow to all of us who knew him."

"Do you know what it worse than knowing that someone you love is dead?" his mother suddenly chirped in with a teary smile. "Not to know what happened to him. You always question what might have happened. Where he was, if he got hurt, if he got lost and waited somewhere for someone to find him, or if he got eaten by wild animals while he played in the woods, or if he fell down a cliff and broke his neck, or he if was still somewhere out there, trying to come home." A sob escaped Dis' lips and she clasped a hand over her mouth while she closed her eyes, the memories too painful for her to bear. Again Thorin lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, and Kili could see the same hurt look on his face.

"I've been searching for him for weeks on end, and I would have searched for him the rest of my life, even if it was just to bring his body back home for a burial," he said, a fierce determination in his eyes. "But your mother needed me, and as king I have responsibilities I couldn't delay any further, so I stopped, and it pained every day since then that I couldn't bring him home. That I couldn't get your mother and everyone else any kind of closure. There had always been this uncertainty, and it never disappeared." Thorin, too, closed his eyes, his emotions overwhelming him.

Kili had never seen his uncle like this. He always knew him as the fierce and loving father figure he has been to him, as well as the strong and capable king, but he has never seen him showing this many emotions before, never seen him so _vulnerable_.

"This pain has kept us from telling you about him, Kili," Thorin continued. "It just hurt too much to talk about it and be reminded of all the possibilities of what could have happened to him."

"Is that the reason why you have locked me inside all my life?" Kili asked, and he couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. He didn't even wanted to. He saw how his mother and uncle flinched at his sharp words, but he just couldn't bring himself to care.

"We just wanted you to be save, sweetheart," his mother said and looked at him with pleading eyes, pleading him to understand. "I have already lost one son, and I just didn't want to lose a second one. I couldn't have borne it. You and your uncle are everything I have left," she said and squeezed his hands she still held in her own, but he pulled them away and stood up.

"Do you think that justifies locking me up in my room?! That I can't go anywhere without at least one armed guard as a babysitter?! That I couldn't go out and play with other children?! For not letting me have a normal life?" He didn't realize it in his tantrum, but at the end of it he had started yelling. His mother looked visibly hurt, tears streaming down her face once again, but Kili didn't care. He didn't want to take pity in his mother. At the moment he wanted to be angry at her.

"We didn't want the same thing that happened to Fili happening to you," his uncle said, his voice soft, trying to make Kili understand their reasoning, but it somehow made him just more furious.

"Don't you have any faith in me? I can take care of my own! I'm not a toddler any more!" he yelled again. He clenched his fists in anger, and he just wanted to punch something.

"Please Kili! Please understand - " his mother tried to say, but Kili had enough.

"No! I don't want to understand _anything_!" he yelled and turned around, fleeing to his room, past Balin who just stood close to the fire, listening to the conversation. He heard his mother and uncle shout after him, but he ignore it. He slammed his door shut and turned the key in the lock before he went to his bed and began punching into the mattress and the pillows before he picked one of them up and pressed it to his face before he began shouting out all his pent-up emotions.

Confusion, pain, anger – a lot of anger – and sadness. From one moment to the other his whole world turned into a giant mess. He once saw a blacksmith being buried under a shelf full of sharp weapons. He could still see the blood and the cuts, and he could still hear how he had groaned and screamed in pain. It was quite a fitting image to describe how he felt at the moment.

But opposite to the man in the smithy he didn't know if he was going to heal again.


End file.
